


Friends of Olde

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Primeval
Genre: Cutter needs to move on, Gen, Ghost Stephen, Help from beyond the grave, Mention of Canon Death, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he hovers close to death after the ARC attack, two friends try to help Cutter pull through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends of Olde

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal in 2010.

The world tilted on its axis and Cutter blinked twice in quick succession before closing his eyes again. Shot. He'd been shot. If he managed to live through this there would never be a moment when that fact wasn't strange to his senses. People like him didn't get shot.

Then again, people like him didn't discover rips in time either.

“You have to breathe, Nick,” a voice said, somewhere to his right. “Nick, _please.”_

* * * * *

“Jenny?” he tried to say, but his mouth felt completely dry and dark figures were swimming in front of his eyes.

“No, Nick, it's me, Stephen.”

“Stephen?” He croaked, louder this time. He felt a hand grasp tightly at his shoulder, nails digging in to his flesh.

“Stephen's dead, Nick,” the voice said. Jenny _was_ there then. And he was losing his mind.

* * * * *

He seemed to drift for an eternity then, white flashes in his eyes making him blink. He needed to remember, there was something important that he needed to remember.

* * * * *

“Nick, you have to wake up now.”

Cutter blinked and winced as the bright light hit his eyes. Stephen was standing over him – a Stephen without any real presence, but it was Stephen all the same. Looking exactly as he had the day he'd died. The day Cutter had seen him die.

“Where am I?” Cutter asked, voice cracking with the effort.

“Helen shot you. Do you remember?”

“Helen?”

“She's gone,” another voice said. For a moment he thought it was Claudia, until he saw her, moving into his line of vision and realised for all their similarities, the two women weren’t really alike at all. "You just hang in there.” Jenny took his hand and squeezed it. “The ambulance is on the way.”

“They can’t see me,” Stephen said. “I'm just here to make sure you don't join me. Not yet, at least.”

“Join you? You're dead.” Cutter's voice was flat. “I'm dying?”

“No, Nick, you're not dying. Help's on its way,” Jenny said, putting enough pressure on his shoulder that he winced, and everything came back to reality, sharper and more defined than before. Until the shadows started slipping in front of him again.

“You have to hang on, Nick,” Stephen said. “Please, for me. Just hold on till the ambulance gets here.”

“So many things I should have said to you.”

“And you can, later. When it's your time, but that isn't now. You hear me?”

“Stephen, I -"

“No, Nick,” Jenny said, “Stephen isn't here. Just please, just please hold on, for me. The ambulance is almost here. Can you hear it, can you hear the sirens?”

“Stephen -”

“No,” Stephen said. ”I already know everything that you want to tell me. I've been through it hundreds of times. Said sorry to you so many times as you’ve walked through the ARC, argued with Lester, tried to understand what Connor was saying.” Cutter's vision cleared and he watched as Stephen, now just an insubstantial _feeling_ rather than an actual presence, seemed to stare down at him. “I've been keeping an eye on you. On all of you. And I'm not about to let Helen destroy all that, not again. You will hang on, and you will get into that ambulance, and you will be fine. And then you'll realise that this project isn't the sum of you and you will tell Jenny that you love her. Because I need to move on too, and you're keeping me here.”

“I never meant that to happen,” Cutter said.

“I know,” Jenny and Stephen said at the same moment.

“I know you didn't, Nick,” Stephen continued. “But all things have to come to an end, and this is a brand new chapter for all of us.”

“I miss you,” Nick murmured to the air.

“I'll always be there for you,” the air whispered back.

* * * * *

Lying in the hospital bed allowed Cutter to reflect on what had happened back at the ARC. He'd been awake for two days now, his surgery having gone extremely well, according to the nurse who'd popped her head in and done all the annoying things that nurses do like checked his pulse and stopped him from moping.

He'd had plenty of visitors, though none had stayed for very long. And none of them had been Stephen.

He groaned and tried to reach for a glass of water, but fell back in annoyance, the glass just out of reach. His whole body still ached and he knew he should be taking it easy but it was so hard to do so, when there were so many things he wanted to do. So many things he wanted to make right.

Not least of which was determine whether or not he was going mad.

 _Had_ he seen Stephen, talked to Stephen, been forgiven by Stephen? Or had it merely been a symptom of the shock of being shot, his conscience relieving him of its burden?

Did it even matter? Stephen was never coming back and there was nothing that he could do about that. Nothing that he was willing to do about that, at least.

A knock at the door startled him from his reverie, and Jenny entered before he could tell her go away.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. She sat down in the chair next to him, then poured him a glass of water and put a straw in it, letting him take a few sips before replacing it on the bedside table.

“I'm fine,” Cutter said. But at Jenny's glare he shrugged and then winced at the tug on his stitches. “I'll be okay,” he said. He even almost meant it.

“You know,” Jenny said, absently patting at Nick's hand, “you were talking to Stephen. Before.”

Nick stared down at their hands. “I know.”

“Okay,” Jenny said. “I'm glad you're all right. We all are.” She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You get some rest, and I'll be around again tomorrow.”

Cutter nodded. He wanted to say more, but sleep was tugging at him and if he was going to make things right, make _everything_ right, then he needed to be on top form. He had so much to live for and the anomaly project was only a part of that. He would not be defined by his work alone, he swore to himself, and to Stephen, before finally closing his eyes and letting sleep take him.

And if he dreamed of warmer days, with Stephen by his side, tracking creatures to the end's of the earth, it was with fondness and not regret.

It was a start.


End file.
